It’s easy to see what others see,
Just look into a mirror.
Except when my eyes approach the glass
And a trembling hand moves hair out of a face
That belongs to a me that isn’t there,
When I feel the clench of teeth that aren’t mine
Baring a terrified, threatened smile,
The lungs of someone else threatening collapse
Like a tower of rose coloured glasses,  
A facade so beautifully crafted that upon its creation
It was given the wrong name.

I look into that mirror and only when the eyes,
The bars of the prison my soul desperately claws at,
Meet my mind do I truly see the person who is there,
The man who grew so safe in complacency
That he refused to question what it meant
To be anything other than what
His body told him.

There’s comfort in conformity,
Especially when the character is curated in such a way
Where no one's the wiser.
A costume so extravagant that even the mind gets swept away
By the splendors of dissociation because surely,
Surely this body belongs to this character
That was so painstakingly molded
By the roles and rehearsals presented to it, surely
The discomfort it feels with these mounds of flesh that hide the lungs
Is not because they shouldn’t be there, but because
They are making it so much easier to play the part
Of the one that isn’t me.

Surely I feel guilty and complicit when I speak because I am fooling everyone,
Fooling, Deceiving, Making it so incredibly easy to see
Someone who just isn’t nor has ever been there.
Even Myself, for 22 years.
For 22 years I’ve let myself take on a role rather than actually stop and think
That maybe I am not a girl who likes dolls,
Who likes dancing and dresses and lover’s confessions
And wrestling and writing and eating and lighting
Up the entire room when I laugh, No,
Maybe that was the rough draft of a character that was meant
To be played by a man.
Maybe, just maybe, it was a boy doing these things.
And when that name was crossed out and replaced
While the critics walked out and looked down with disgrace,
The boy in a dress with his chest all in lace
Finally let out the breath he was holding
For 22 years.

The mirror still lies on occasion to others,
But to me, I look and see past this body,
Past the hair and the chest and the shortness of breath
From the noose of conformity around my neck,
And I see the man that god made me.
And while I want so badly to be seen by the masses,
How I want to shatter their rose coloured glasses
So they see the waves of purple and blue that adorn me.
How I want the people who have scorned me
To say I didn’t delve from the scriptwriter’s plan,
It just took them awhile to see I was a man.

I know it will never happen.
That even as the curtain falls, no matter the costume or lack thereof,
They will only see the girl that isn’t there.
And maybe I will take this facade to my grave but as I return
To the one who truly made me,
He will say ‘welcome home, my son.
Your performance as her, it’s finally done.’

I’m not one to have many friends
who stick around the fraying ends
of life that makes a tree trunks’ bends
seem all that more concerning.

I am not one whose grip will tighten
once these people are enlightened
of the childish freak all much too frightened
of someone else’s yearning.

To say goodbye is not a need
when their removal means you’re freed
of negativity you would feed
without any intention.

To say goodbye without it said
is now a ritual I can’t dread
because it’s what my illness led
to without intervention.

So every time they disappear,
the people whom I loved so dear
My brain won’t even shed a tear
because she saw it coming.

Yet now I must swallow to speak
The goodbye that I’d never seek
The goodbye that might make me weak
and stifle the heart’s drumming.

I’ll say these words with heavy heart,
because I knew right from the start
some day our ways would have to part.
“It’s okay if you leave me.”

Everywhere they move has cracked foundation,
these stakes so high but different sizes,
remove one to stop devastation,
burn them all to settle ties;
The bitter clasps of stubborn pride and
Blueprints of fate that have been dyed
Black by the ink in one’s own mind.
The family tree is but a ****.
You cut its blossoms while the seed
Of hatred festers under tears
And rains on it for years and years
Until weeds overtake the garden,
No size shears could ever pardon
Such sheer bitter disregard
For those birthed in the same backyard.

When you were my muse, I could write every lyric with ease.

Words into a river while the river passed by,

Sweeping me under and dragging me through mud.

I’ve burned my skin to rid of you,

charred scars cracking and staining;

Forever remaining are memories of the mask you’ve always worn.

Memories of the mask that was too torn

to decipher the plastic from the plaster from the person.



Even now words ring through ears, wring my tears out

when I think of what you were and aren’t.

One in the same, everything and nothing

And every where in between.



You mined my mind when you were ‘mine’

And gold turned coal after you stole

Every fabric of truth until I’d only lie

on a blanket of warm velvety lies.



I do not make sense of my own words

yet I know that because they are yours

the dam is ****** to never keep the river completely out.

Hey there buddy
Sure has been a while, hasn’t it
A couple different years but same old ****
Clogging each toilet like life depended on it

You have forgotten, and that’s perfectly fine
Go about your day and sip your wine
Is it better to forget you chopped down my vine?

Well, I’d say *******
But that’s what you want. You want me to hate you
I’d say **** me
But whenever you did you always faked it too

Why did I ever let you slip into my sheets,
Stain each paper close to me.
Because buddy, you said you wouldn’t leave me.
Because buddy, your friend was all I wanted to be.

Hey there buddy.
You’re shaking your head in total dismay
But I had to do that every single day
When I would say hello to the wind when I wanted the river.

Sure I must sound like I’m a total nut case
But who made me like that in the first place
Is it better to forget this tortured face?

Well, I’d say forget you
But that’s what you want. You want me to hate you
I’d say forget me
But you already have, I’m nothing to you.

Why did I ever let you slip into my sheets,
Stain each paper close to me.
Because buddy, you said the closest thing to you was me.
Because buddy, your friend was all I wanted to be.

Hey there, buddy.
Wishing you the best in your new life
It’s not really new just ‘cause you turned the knife
My blood’s still spattered on the other side.

Once upon a fantasy there was a time of you and me,
a friendship that could mend a broken wing
But I no longer breathe your air and you no longer seem to care,
as if our friendship never meant a thing. And

I don’t need dreams to show you’re not worth it,
don’t need a mind to tell me right from wrong,
but tell my heart that you just aren’t perfect,
we’ll never get along.

If being a stranger after all this time is
what you call a friend,
then you’re the best friend that I ever had.

Once upon a friendship dear I never saw something so clear;
in my life you got rid of all the mess
We both got lives went on our way and though I thought your friend I’d stay
I realize my efforts were all worthless. And

I don’t need tears to show how much I miss you,
don’t dare remind me what a fool I’ve been,
just tell me that the boy who gave me new life
is buried deep within

If being a stranger after all this time is
what you call a friend,
then you’re the best friend that I ever had.

I know I’m wasting my voice,
I know I’ve lost my mind
But do I have a choice
How could I quit and then rejoice
when our friendship was one of a kind?

You saved my life,
You saved my mind,
One of a kind.. But

I don’t need dreams to show you’re not worth it,
don’t need a mind to tell me right from wrong,
but tell my heart that you just aren’t perfect,
we’ll never get along, and I,

I don’t need tears to show how much I miss you,
don’t ******* tell me what a fool I’ve been,
just promise me that the boy who gave me life
is buried deep within


If being a stranger after all this time is
what you call a friend,
then you’re the best friend that I ever had.

You were the best friend that I ever had.

I was needed by one person.
They used me to clean up their mess,
to protect others from seeing.
I absorbed their blood, their mood swings,
everything about them that others hated
but I loved.

They tossed me, without a second thought,
on the street for others to laugh at.
Without knowing whose blood stained me,
they saw someone used up to the point
of being nothing but a disgrace to the public eye.

After everything I did for you,
you simply used me and left me to be judged
like a ****** on the sidewalk.